


Ideal

by AshsHorrorShow



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Angst, Character Study, Dreams, Loneliness, Look At Your Life Look At Your Choices, Lust, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Oral Sex, Self-Hatred, Self-Reflection, Shizuo Doesn't Actually Officially Show Up Except In Izaya's Mind, Surreal, Unrequited Love, Unrequited Lust, Voyeurism, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 12:18:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14332314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshsHorrorShow/pseuds/AshsHorrorShow
Summary: Izaya's dreams bring up some uncomfortable truths.





	Ideal

Izaya was dreaming again. 

Normally, he didn’t put much stock in dreams. In fact, he usually forgot his as soon as he woke up. But recently, he had been having a series of very similar dreams that would not leave his mind. After all, his subconscious didn’t seem to want him to forget them. They all occurred in relatively the same place (his apartment), they all had the same recurring character, and they all made him feel uncomfortable in a different way each time.

The most surreal part of these dreams was how realistic they appeared to be. When he cracked his eyes open, he saw that he was lying on the couch in his living room, where everything looked to be in order. If he wasn’t trained to know better, he would’ve thought he had simply passed out on his couch again, exhaustion finally taking over from pulling one too many all-nighters. However, with one turn of his head, he saw the thing that proved that he was not in the plains of reality. A familiar face he always found himself hoping wouldn’t appear every single time he fell asleep.

“Get away from me, Psyche,” Izaya growled, already beginning to get off the couch to possibly find a way out of this dream. He didn’t bother trying to pinch himself. He had tried that three dreams ago. It didn’t work. He looked at his windows. If he leapt out the windows, would the sensation of falling help him jerk awake? He might have to try it. 

“You are always so mean, Izaya-kun,” Psyche pouted. Then, brightening, he chirped, “However, I will not let your blatant rudeness get to me! Experts says it’s always important to try and be the bigger and better person-”

“I really do not care,” Izaya snapped vehemently, causing Psyche to pout again and childishly cross his arms. 

“...Even if people like you make that extremely hard sometimes,” Psyche mumbled, side-eyeing Izaya. 

Izaya just glared at the man who was him - but also not him. They were almost identical in looks. They had the same face, the same figure, same height and weight, etc. It was almost as if someone had cloned him, or like he had an identical twin brother who his parents never informed him about. 

Only those who paid attention to the small details would be able to see the slight differences in their features. Instead of the vermillion-red color Izaya’s eyes held, Psyche’s eyes had a more fuschia tint to them. Not quite pink, not quite purple.

Izaya’s features were a tad sharper, more defined while Psyche’s were softer, more round.

Izaya’s face always hinted mischief and excitement, while Psyche’s was more innocent and friendly-looking. Both of their faces were inviting - but in a different way. 

However, even if looks wise they seemed almost identical, personality-wise, they could hardly be more different. Izaya did not consider himself a moral or conservative person by any means. But… Psyche was just plain debauched. He drank whatever was in front of him and seemed to get drunk with absolutely no thought. He could be unusually crass in his language and he seemed to approach life with a flamboyant, carefree attitude. He charged headfirst into things. If he were an informant, he would be dead within a day.

But the worst part of Psyche’s shamelessness was it wasn’t just tied to his personality.

It was… tied to his activities as well.

A memory resurfaced in Izaya’s head and he quickly shook it out of his mind, not wanting to linger on it.

Instead, he wanted to get to the point.

“What do you want from me, Psyche?” Izaya demanded, “Why do you keep showing up?”

Izaya felt somewhat ridiculous, even within the confines of his own dream. After all, would any answer really satisfy him? Psyche wasn’t real. Psyche was a character in a dream, a figment of his imagination. A creation his mind made up for him to talk to. The only answer Psyche would give is one that Izaya’s brain would provide for him. It was no better than talking to a machine.

As if to prove this point, Psyche simply smiled lightly and said, “I don’t know. You’re the one who keeps dreaming me up. I was hoping you’d tell me.”

Izaya scowled at the other, his hatred towards him growing more and more. He didn’t know why he hated Psyche as much as he did. He usually simply disliked people. Hate was reserved for monsters like Shizuo Heiwajima, who was dumb and violent and unpredictable as hell, often at the worst of times.

But then again, he supposed Psyche wasn’t all that much different from Shizuo. Shizuo might not be as energetic nor as shameless as Psyche, and Psyche might not throw things around or have a perpetual stick up his ass like Shizuo did, but there were some similarities that he couldn’t overlook.

For one thing, Psyche and Shizuo were both dumb. Well, at least, he _thought_ Psyche was dumb. Something about the way Psyche phrased some things, or the looks Psyche gave him at times, gave Izaya the impression that Psyche was actually a lot craftier than he was letting on. That he knew stuff Izaya didn’t and he was just withholding information for whatever reason. Sometimes, he was sure he saw intelligence glinting from those fuschia eyes.

But if it was true that Psyche was smarter than he looked, he must be one hell of an actor, as he didn’t seem to break his ditzy and self-indulgent “act” once. 

And there was a certain childishness air that both Psyche and Shizuo shared. They both could be beyond petulant and stamped their feet the minute they didn’t get their way, Psyche via whining and Shizuo by throwing violent tantrums. They handled nothing with maturity or grace. 

And just like Shizuo, Psyche somehow seemed to have a network of friends, despite their obvious and glaring flaws.

He quickly pushed anymore thoughts about Shizuo Heiwajima out of his head though. Not only because he didn’t like thinking of the blond in general, but because in this realm, if he thought about Shizuo too long, _he_ might appear and-

The previous thought he had tried to appear almost came to mind again, and once more, he quickly pushed it away.

“Oh no! And Delic was almost fully-formed there too!” Psyche whined, glaring at Izaya. The angry look morphed into a mischievous one as he gave Izaya a knowing smirk. Leaning forward and raising an eyebrow, he purred, “Didn’t you like the show we gave you last time?”

Izaya felt his lip curl. “You are disgusting.”

Psyche shrugged, “You were the one who thought it up. So what does that make you?”

Izaya hated that Psyche had a point.

It happened a month ago. Once again, he had woken up in what appeared to be in his apartment. In fact, he had been convinced he had woken up. He was in his bed after all, the morning sun seeping in from his window. However, when he wandered downstairs to go and grab an apple for breakfast, he nearly suffered a heart attack at seeing someone, who resembled Shizuo far too much, sitting on his couch. The Shizuo clone - Delic, apparently was his name - had been lucky that Izaya had noticed the fuschia eyes he had. He’d been about three seconds away from grabbing one the million switchblades he had hidden around his apartment and planting it in between the blond’s eyes. His guard had still been up, but at least he wouldn’t have to worry about being smashed by his desk or something.

But then he’d also spotted Psyche there, down on his knees on the floor, nestled in between Delic’s long knees. It was then that he noticed that Delic’s cock was out, stiff and hard and oozing with precum. Izaya had wanted to say something. Surely, even in Dream World, he had the right to stop two people from having any sort of sex on his posh couch? But his mouth didn’t move. It wouldn’t move.

Instead, he’d stood and watched, enraptured, as Psyche leaned forward and licked a stripe up Delic’s cock, the blond’s head immediately falling back as he let out a soft moan. He watched as Psyche, continued to tease Delic for a few more seconds, making Delic compliant and needy before he swallowed Delic’s dick whole, bobbing his head back and forth, like some sort of professional pornstar. 

Eventually, it seemed Delic couldn’t take it anymore and his hips had bucked upwards, the blond essentially fucking Psyche in the throat. Psyche coughed a bit at the sudden rough treatment, but still somehow managed to take it with expert precision. Delic eventually calmed a bit, muttering apologies under his breath to Psyche for not being able to control himself. 

Probably in fear he would do that again, Delic carded his fingers through Psyche’s hair, his grip tightening every now and then whenever the pleasure got to be too much. Psyche seemed to enjoy that as he let out a muffled sound of delight every single time he did it. 

Neither man seemed to have noticed he was there. Was he invisible? 

Izaya wanted to look away or walk away or something. The filthy display was making him feel uncomfortably conflicted emotions. Disgust seemed the most prominent, naturally. Seeing such a shameless act of debauchery unfold in front of him was somewhat uncomfortable. It was dirty and unprofessional. 

It didn’t help his mood either that Psyche looked so much like him and Delic so much like Shizuo.

And yet, despite his so called disgust, another traitorous part of his body seemed to disagree, as he found his cock was hard as a rock and straining against his pajama pants.

That would’ve been easy enough to shake off and explain though under normal circumstances. He was only human after all. A male one, at that. Seeing anything sexually stimulating was bound to get a reaction of some sort out of his body. 

But what he couldn’t hand wave away was the feeling of jealousy that had washed over him, watching that display. The wave of _desire_. He wanted to be the one in Psyche’s place. He wanted the Shizuo-look alike to grab _his_ hair like that, to become putty like that with him in control. He found his eyes being trained towards the Shizuo look alike the whole time as he unzipped his own pants and began self-servicing. It wasn’t like they could see him after all.

Or so he had thought at the time, anyway.

He had awoken in his real bedroom, his front sticky, disgusted with himself.

Now he was even more humiliated that Delic and Psyche had actually seen him doing that. Even if Psyche was only a figment of his imagination, it was still embarrassing to know he’d been caught doing that. 

Flushing, he just hissed, “Shut up. Why do you keep showing up, anyway? I thought my mind would’ve eradicated someone as obnoxious as you long ago.”

“Wow, love you lots too.” Psyche said flippantly, causing Izaya’s eye to twitch. Before he could launch a caustic comment back, Psyche shrugged and said, “How should I know? You’re the one who keeps bringing me back. Maybe it’s because you love seeing my cute and beautiful face?”

Seeing Izaya’s look, he frowned and shook his head, sighing, “You really can’t take a joke, can you? But for real, I have no idea. I am what you want me to be. After all, I am not real. It’s up to you to decide what I am. Maybe I am just a recurring character cause I stuck out in your mind. Maybe I am just a nightmare, a fear of what you don’t want to become. Or maybe, I am exactly what you want to be. Maybe I am all three of those.”

Izaya sat uncomfortably as he listened to all of this, absorbing and mulling it over in his mind. Especially on the ‘what he wanted’ to be part. Was that true? He had never entertained the thought for too long, brushing Psyche off as a mere annoyance. But was that what this was? Was that why Psyche resembled him so much? Was he projecting onto someone who was popular? Who still managed to have fun but didn’t have to torture people in order to do so? Who wasn’t bogged down with responsibilities? Who didn’t have to worry about his life all the time?

Was that what he wanted? He couldn’t say he exactly wanted all of Psyche’s life or personality, but there was certainly aspects of it that Izaya wouldn’t mind having. 

Then a wave of fear went over him, did he want Shizuo like that? He tried to deny it quickly, but he knew he was lying somewhat to himself. He hated Shizuo, he really did. The idea of the man brought a level of anger that no other human could possibly hope to accomplish, not even a fake one like Psyche. But the man was tied into his life too much. He thought about him too much for it to simply be hate anymore. He was an obsession. 

And with that obsession came branching paths of thought in his mind. What if Shizuo didn’t hate him? What if he and Shizuo had ever made a truce of some kind - not a friendship, but an agreement of sorts? What would it be like? What if he and Shizuo still carried their deep-seated, passionate hate and it carried into the bedroom and Shizuo showed off his strength in the bedroom, holding back just enough to gently hold and caress him so Izaya’s body didn’t break? What if Shizuo didn’t hate him and in the bedroom? What if they were nice and kind and everyone felt needed and loved? 

He always prided himself on being completely different from Shizuo. However, he supposed if he and Shizuo were similar in one way, it was that they both felt alone in the world at times. 

And unlike him, Shizuo was more honest about that. 

Izaya hated these thoughts. He hated himself. And he hated Psyche for making him feel these things. 

Part of him wanted to grab his switchblade and stab Psyche over and over and over again until he wasn’t moving and gone for making him face such complicated emotions. He didn’t know if it was possible to kill someone in a dream, but he could try it. The walls and furniture in the room began to get colored in a black and red goo, matching his thoughts.

Psyche eyed the goo boredly, as if they were something he expected. If he could sense Izaya’s murderous thoughts, he certainly didn’t seem too scared. Instead, the man had the gall to say, “If you’re feeling that bad about it all, maybe you should get a therapist, perhaps. Talk some things out. But if you don’t, just know that I am always here for you.” 

Then leaning over with a mocking smile, he said, “After all, who else do you have?”

Then with that, before Izaya could react, he found woke up in his bedroom, anger and loneliness breeding inside his chest.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't... I don't know where this came from. I did have fun writing it however. I hope you enjoyed. 
> 
> If you see a mistake, feel free to point it out so I can fix it immediately, and as always, critique is wanted! 
> 
> Have a great day!


End file.
